


Sweater

by mtapfan



Category: My Time At Portia (Video Game)
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:07:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26139376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtapfan/pseuds/mtapfan
Summary: Isaac finds a knitting pattern while cleaning the library, and asks Sophie to make it for him.But the pattern doesn't turn out quite like he's expecting.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Sweater

Isaac slowly sipped his tea as he watched Sophie across the table. He _knew_ that gleam in her eyes, and he didn’t like it. And the way she was smiling was more than slightly concerning, making him wonder what sort of knitting pattern he'd actually found in the library.

"If it's got some sort of hideous picture on it," he started, eyes narrowing at his old friend, "like that one with the garish tree and all the colourful balls and boxes, then I don't--"

"No no, it's nothing like that dear, don't worry," she cut across, sounding far too happy. "It simply has an interesting ribbed stitch is all, and a high neckline. But I can have it done for you in a week or so I imagine."

Only a week? The last sweater she'd made him had taken two. He lifted a brow when she looked at him, silently asking, and he _really wasn't liking that smile_.

"It's got no sleeves dear,” she finally answered, “but the fabric it does have will be nice and thick and warm, so I doubt the lack of sleeves will be much of a concern."

He kept staring at her, trying to work out what else it was that she wasn't saying, but eventually sighed and tipped his mug to drain the last of his drink. Her find out soon enough, he was sure. 

"Fine, fine. Let me know when it's finished."

"Right you are dear. Off you trot now."

Shaking his head as he pushed himself to his feet, he started going over the clothes he had in his wardrobe. He must have _something_ he could wear over whatever monstrosity his old friend was making him, so he could hide it while not offending her by not wearing it at all.

* * *

Isaac glanced up when a shadow fell across his soup, and immediately tensed, senses all on high alert when he found Sophie standing at the end of the table smiling blandly at him and holding something wrapped in paper.

“Sophie, what--”

“I finished your sweater dear,” she said, her voice far louder than normal, which drew the attention of the other people enjoying the Round Table’s lunch specials and didn’t help the sinking sensation in his stomach at _all_. “It came out a lot nicer than I thought it might, and I wanted to get it to you straight away.”

“Sophie-” he started again, voice low, but she cut him off again while pushing his bowl to the side and placing the package before him.

“I had to guess at some of the measurements, but I’m sure it will fit you quite nicely. Go ahead and unwrap it so you can try it on for me, won’t you?”

He glared at her for a long moment, before sighing and reaching out for the string tied around the paper. There was no use arguing with her. It was far easier to just give in and open the damn thing so she’d leave, and--

Huh. Well. It wasn’t terrible, he could admit. The neckline was rather thick, like she’d said, and the ribbing looked deep which meant it would be warm at least. Shifting to climb out of the booth, because he knew Sophie wouldn’t leave until he’d tried it on, he waited till she’d moved out of the way before grabbing it and--

. . .

“What is this?”

“It’s the sweater pattern you gave me dear.”

Isaac stared at the material hanging from his fingers. Stared at the large gap in the front, and the complete lack of shoulders and back beside a wide band of tighter ribbing that dragged everything towards his knees. How was someone even meant to wear this?!

“Sophie, you told me it didn’t have arms. You didn’t mention it not having a back.”

“Oh, didn’t I? I’m sorry dear, must have slipped my mind.”

He knew from experience that the glare he shot at her would have sent any other Portian running, but not Sophie. No, Sophie simply stood there smiling blandly at him, eyes twinkling with mischief as the sound of quiet laughter started to fill the restaurant.

“What’s the matter dear, aren’t you going to try it on?”

* * *

A month later, Isaac decided he wasn’t leaving his house till Spring, so he wouldn’t have to see everyone else wearing the now insanely popular sweater.


End file.
